The Rev. Virginia W. Nagel
Episcopal Diocese of Central NY (Retired)
One of the difficult things for all of us is finding ourselves in a position
where we know what we MUST do, and feel that we would rather do exactly the
opposite. Sometimes it's when, as a child, we know that the rules our parents
have given us say that we must not go out to play or watch TV until we have
finished our chores and our homework. But it's so nice outside, and the homework
is boring, and we really do not want to stay cooped up in the house dusting and
studying when we could be out in the sun playing. Or, perhaps a parent finds
that a child has done something for which the parent must punish the little one,
and the parent's love for the child makes it so hard to do that...we've all
heard parents say, "this hurts me more than it does you." Or sometimes the
company policy or rule says that we must report something an employee has done,
but that employee does such good work otherwise, and we are afraid he'll get mad
and quit, and we'll have to find another employee...who could not possibly do
the job as well as the person we have to report. Or we may need to report a
friend of child abuse or embezzlement, and hate to do it, knowing that this will
end our friendship. And on, and on....
King David found himself in exactly that same position, and went through
exactly the same emotional upheaval that we all experience in situations like
that.
David had already experienced considerable emotional turmoil. You know it's
not easy being the leader of a country, no matter if the job is called being a
king or a president. We have read about some of it in the readings of the past
few Sundays. But here's a bit more background to help us understand today's
reading from Samuel:
The child which David and Bathsheba had had together had died.
Then they had another child, who grew up to be the great king Solomon.
David had had a number of other children by various wives; he had five or six
wives by this time. His very favorite son was called Absalom. One of the other
sons was Ammon, and one of his daughters was Tamar. These young people all had
different mothers. Absalom and Tamar were very close friends, as well as being
half-brother and half-sister.
Youngsters will grow up, and of course David's family did the same. And one
day Ammon raped his half-sister Tamar. Tamar, of course, went to her favorite
half-brother, Absalom, for comfort.
Absalom was furious. He called out Ammon and killed him. By the law of the
Covenant, this was not murder, but a proper punishment for rape. Nevertheless,
King David felt that he had to exile his favorite son from the court, so that
Ammon's other brothers would not try to take revenge on Absalom. But David
greatly missed his son Absalom, and grieved that he had to send him away.
Absalom was one of those people who held grudges, and so he started scheming
to get his father David off the throne, and become king himself. He worked very
hard to get this mutiny started. Some of his half-brothers joined him, others
were loyal to David. It built up until it was a major political problem, and so
David felt that he had to call out the army to fight against Absalom's forces.
By this time, David himself was rather old, and so he did not lead the army into
battle. He divided the army into three sections, hoping to entrap Absalom's
forces and thus save his throne. And he carefully told each section of the army,
as they marched out, to be careful not to harm Absalom. He still loved his son,
you see.
And so the battle went on and on. Absalom was riding on a mule...as kings did
in parades in those days. (That's why Jesus rode on a donkey when he entered
Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. Riding on a horse meant that the king came in
war...riding on a mule or donkey meant that he came in peace.) Maybe Absalom saw
that his forces were getting the worst of the battle and wanted to make peace
with his father. But we don't really know that for sure.
Anyway, Absalom rode through a woods, and there was this oak tree with low,
spreading branches. Absalom had long, thick, curly hair, and it got caught in
the branches of the tree, and lifted him off the horse. He was suspended in
mid-air. One of our famous Bible scholars, Walter Bruggemann, wrote that Absalom
was "suspended between life and death, between the sentence of a rebel and the
value of a son, between the severity of a king and the yearning love of a
father."
A soldier reported this to the leader of one section of the king's army, and
that leader, Joab, immediately rode up and killed Absalom, the rebellious
traitor. The soldier who was sent to inform the king told him that "all your
enemies are defeated." It is obvious that David would have heard this news with
very mixed feelings.
When King David heard about this, his heart-felt lament, which echoed down
through the ages to us, tells us all we need to know about his feelings: O
my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you, O
Absalom, my son, my son!
Paul's letter to the Christians in Ephesus outlines a way of life that he
thought should be the norm for Christians. Nowadays we would call it a rule of
life, and it is still as important for us today as it was for the Christians
twenty-one centuries ago: Don't fall back into the ways of non-Christians!
Don't lie, hate, gossip, talk vulgarly, or take advantage of others. Instead,
seek the wisdom of God and behave in tune with that wisdom. We would all
do well to take Paul's advice, instead of trying to be like everyone else.
Christians are supposed to be different from worldly people, you know. Yes, it
hurts. Yes, we know what we should do, and yes, it isn't always what we would
like to do, or passionately want to do. Like King David, we must learn to let
our duty rule our desires. It is no easier for us than it was for him, but then,
who ever said it was easy to be a king, or a Christian?
Jesus' conversation with the people who had followed him from the feeding of
the five thousand revealed the basic meaning of that event. The multiplication
of the loaves and fishes had pointed out clearly that Jesus had the powers of
God, and that he was Lord of Creation. But, of course, a lot of the people who
had eaten the bread and fish still did not understand. Finally, Jesus spelled it
out for them: they, like their ancestors in the Exodus, had been supplied with
bread and fish (instead of the doves of the Exodus), and had been given all they
needed to satisfy their appetites. But they, like their ancestors, were still
whining because it wasn't what they had expected or wanted. What's more, Jesus
pointed out that the manna of the Exodus melted away after a few hours...but the
bread that Jesus had given them was good, solid bread, that would nourish them
forever. And then he looked ahead to the Crucifixion that he saw coming, and
informed them that they were being nourished by him, by his own body...which
would be sacrificed on the cross for them.
They apparently were unable to find an answer for this, but it did not stop
their grumbling and whining.
Incidentally, it might do us all good to sit down quietly and read all of
Chapter 6 of John. A very wise and holy man, the monk Thomas Merton, says that
this is the most meaningful chapter in the whole Bible, and that he never gets
through it without being more and more changed into a Christian each time he
reads it.
And there we have it: what we want is not what is always good for us to
have. We are accountable for the gifts God has given us, including the
duties we are committed to by the place in society that God has given us. There
are times when our souls will be harshly tried by this, but we need to face the
fact that we all have to do what we know is right...no matter how much we don't
want to, no matter how much it may hurt. Amen.
